simmon, so well remembered by old campaigners in Virginia, will
grow readily in this latitude. There are forests of this tree
around Paterson, N. J., and it has been known to endure twenty-
seven degrees below zero. It is a handsome tree at any season, and
its fruit in November caused much straggling from our line of
march in the South. Then there is our clean-boled, graceful beech,
whose smooth white bark has received so many tender confidences.
In the neighborhood of a village you will rarely find one of these
trees whereon is not linked the names of lovers that have sat
beneath the shade. Indeed I have found mementoes of trysts or
rambles deep in the forest of which the faithful beech has kept
the record until the lovers were old or dead. On an immense old
beech in Tennessee there is an inscription which, while it
suggests a hug, presents to the fancy an experience remote from a
lover's embrace. It reads, "D. Boone cilled bar on tree."